Call me a plural
by Fyrsil
Summary: Lukas Bondevik suffers with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Every day he has woken up as one of four personalities, including himself, and in a last attempt to free himself of his mental illness he turns to a renowned Danish doctor in London: Matthias Koler. Can Matthias help him. And, if he can, will Lukas regret banning those so called fictional identities?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello, this is my first Dennor story, including a lot of angst, mental illness and exploration of what it is to be human and what makes us individual beings. I hope you enjoy, please review to let me know what you liked and disliked. Other pairings will include HongIce and SuFin. Thank you~**

* * *

The popping of the rye bread from the toaster roused Tino from his morning haze, startling the gentle man into a more conscious state. The watery winter sun trickled through the window, The thin fingers of frost making their claim of the unglazed pains. Lucas really should get Berwald to fit better ones, Tino pondered, perhaps he would leave the man a note on his pillow… though if Emil found it the depressed teenager may destroy it out of his aimless spite, and Tino had no power to persuade the boy otherwise.

The man sighed. Sometimes, it was frustrating having no way to communicate with others besides notes and through Lukas himself – sometimes, when he wasn't blocking them out with drugs or phycotherapy or the like. Poor man, it wasn't his fault he was cursed by their presence. And it really was a curse. He was regarded as an invalid amongst 'normal' members of society, and Tino couldn't argue that the constant switching made normal life near impossible for the Norwegian.

Shrugging the thought away – not being one to ponder his troubles – Tino grabbed the bread, downing the meal quickly and sparing a minute to place the metal cross clip Lukas so loved in the top drawer of the dresser, the place the man always knew to look for it when he regained his consciousness. He was luck if it was Tino to remove it, as the others weren't always so considerate, Berwald usually placing it in whatever pocket or shelf or drawer he first saw, and Emil… Well, if the boy was in a good mood he may too put it in an easy place; if not he could hide it so Lukas would have to wait until Emil was back to regain his possession.

It was when Tino was preparing to do some housework that he felt the unpleasant pull at his consciousness – not a painful sensation but unnatural end every time he had to go through this Tino felt like he was dying. In a way, he was. It wasn't as if he were simply falling asleep, not when the body carried on going; not when the even the mind was still awake, simply out of Tino's control. It was scary, and very few things scared the Fin. Feeling the world go hazy, he realised the type of transition it was to be and prepared accordingly. Hastily, he took a seat, laying the body down as for it to not fall and get injured.

Things were getting harder to process, and finally his lids blinked shut, him taking his place in the back of the body's mind, asleep, yet awake. Dead, yet alive.

And then, as was the usual routine, the icy glare was revealed as cold eyes glanced round the room. Emil swore, and hit the wall. Today, he was angry.

* * *

Victoria Mental Ward, London

"Take a seat please," came the kind, lively yet professional voice of the doctor, the tone so familiar after spending the past five years in and out of mental wards and counselling and therapy that Lukas almost rolled his eyes.

Lukas had flown from his hometown in Norway to England, a leading force in phycology, where he would be staying in one of the most renowned mental wards of Europe under the care of the young yet esteemed doctor Matthias Bondevik, a man native to Denmark, his accent still prominent even when speaking in hospital linguacy, when he was meant to be as little 'human' as possible in order to put his patients first.

It was debated in the medical world whether this was the cause of his success. The twenty five year old had graduated university early and with flying colours, starting out in the crazy world of mental illness treatment a rookie like the rest, yet proving himself faster than he could be promoted.

Inevitably, his name was often the first to be recommended, the most lusted after, and most likely the first to be dismissed when a mental patient was considering treatment. Such talent was not offered on the NHS or any other medical plan. His treatment was for the rich only, his price reflecting the near hundred percent success rate he had when it came to his therapy, and the thought that he would offer his service to an ordinary – if someone as mentally messed up as Lukas could be considered ordinary – young man forced to pull out of college because of his disorder was unheard of, yet here Lukas was, and there Matthias was sitting across from him.

Lukas crossed his harms, let out a slight sigh. Same old so far, there was nothing special about the man that he could tell, if not for the unusual hairstyle for a hospital or the genuine friendliness in his eyes. In his years of attempted and failed treatment, Lukas had learned to become sceptical. If this man was offering treatment free, then maybe he was slacking; or maybe he was losing he edge. Whatever.

"What are you thinking right now?" Matthias asked.

"I haven't even introduced myself and you are already interrogating me?"

"Ah, so annoyed, and frustrated."

Lukas held back a groan. He couldn't complain, which was perhaps the source of his annoyance. That, and this man was genuinely more annoying than any other doctor he'd had, and he had only met him for less than two minutes.

"Look," Matthias said, "The way my treatment works is by getting to know my patients individual and extensively. That means that I won't behave like a friend, nor a doctor, but both. It is a method that has proven very well in my experience. Now tell me about yourself."

Taken aback by how quickly the man's demeanour changed, Lukas could do nothing but reply. "My name is Lukas Bondevik. I'm from Norway and I have had Multiple Personality disorder for over seven years."

"So when about would you say it started?"

"When I was about sixteen?"

Matthias took a few notes, then looked back up at his patient. Lukas couldn't be bothered to act annoyed any more.

"Why are you asking? My file should tell you much more than that." Lukas inquired.

"Oh, it does, but I prefer to hear the basics from a patient. It would be strange to just assume I know your life story after reading a few pieces of paper… Moving on! You have been suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder – or as you called it Multiple personality disorder – for several years now, and we'll discuss more of that later, but just for now could you tell me a bit about – would you like me to call them your alters?"

Lukas nodded, "That's fine. Well… first there's Emil, the first one I developed. Um… I don't know what to say, really."

"I'd like to know their age and name, obviously. Usually each alter has a few defining factors which make them significant, and the more we meet them the more we will be able to understand why you subconsciously developed them in the first place. Just introduce me, I guess."

"Okay, so Emil is in his mid teens, though I don't know his exact age. Normally when I switch to him he will either be angry and break things, doing anything he can to hurt me, or childlike. It's like he's a different person when he's in each mood, but I know he's the same person at heart."

Matthias pondered his words, his finger's flashing on the keyboard of the computer. "That is unusual for an alter. What I usually see is for one distinct emotion or memory to be separated into the alternate personality. It is usually the mind's way of protecting the individual from whatever harm it may bring, but you say it is like he's two different people?" Lukas nodded his assent. "Well, this is useful information. It will play a big part in your diagnosis. Now tell me about the others."

"Next there is Berwald. He is twenty seven and quiet – he speaks to me the least of the three. He is… like a workman, fixing things; he has a lot of skill in woodwork and the like. I'd say he's quite shy and prefers to be left alone. I'll always wake up after him taking over inside my house. He even made one of my rooms into a workshop, even though I left a note for him to not to."

Matthias smiled at that, then gestured for him to continue.

"Last is Tino. He is friendly, and kind, and is always doing nice things for me. He's the sort who will tidy the house and look after my things when I switch. He talks a lot to me sometimes, I think I know the most about him, though other times it's like he's scared he's disturbing me and won't speak for days, even weeks."

"Like he feels guilty?" Matthias pondered.

"Yes."

Lukas sat in silence while Matthias typed. The man observed his doctor's face, the way his brow creased in concentration, how his tongue stuck out slightly. Maybe this wouldn't be a pointless task after all. Despite being sceptical at the beginning, Lukas allowed a part of him to wonder – hope – that finally he would be getting effective help.

"Why do you want to get rid of us though," A voice in his head: Emil. He could imagine the boys pout on a faceless figure, and even though he knew it was silly, he felt a pang of guilt. After putting up with his alters so long, they had become like real people and he always felt like he will trying to kill them by getting treatment.

"You never wanted me around, did you?"

'Please shut up.' Lukas thought back.

"Why? You have travelled to another country to shut me, so why should I make the effort?"

'You're not real; you're part of me.'

"But am I?"

"Shut up!" Lukas exclaimed aloud. Matthias jumped, his hands slamming the keyboard and his eyes widening in surprise. However, he calmed down quickly, just like the professional he was said to be.

"Is someone speaking you you?"

"Yes," Lukas gritted his teeth, face reddening in embarrassment, "Emil."

"What's he saying?"

"He's angry that I'm trying to get rid of him."

"That's understandable," he paused in thought, "what will normally happen after someone speaks to you?"

"Sometimes I'll take over, sometimes Lukas shuts me up." It was Lukas' mouth moving, but the words coming out of them weren't his. Interestingly, the tonation of Emil compared to his host was similar, almost identical, with a monotonous rhythm and lack of enthusiasm. But unlike Lukas, who spoke with the refined dignity of a man confident in himself, Emil's voice was higher, more vulnerable and childlike, despite the challenging frown he shot at Matthias.

"Why did you take over, Emil?" Matthias challenged, trying to hide his frustration of the first session being disrupted. He wanted to get to know Lukas, after all, not the bizarre bank of stored personalities who claimed to be individual thinking beings in the same body.

"Why wouldn't I? It is stuffy in there," the boy – for Matthias had decided he was younger if not physically then mentally – pouted.

"Fair point," the doctor sighed, unfazed. You could hand that to him. Most people would freak out even if they were professionals. "So, what do you expect to do now, I was in the middle of counselling Lukas, and you are prolonging his illness by interrupting him like this. He mentioned you were angry about him getting treatment." Matthias kept a cool, constant tone throughout.

"I-I…" Emil trailed off, his already red face becoming yet more crimson, turning his head away. He didn't make any further effort to speak.

Matthias sighed again. He thought he may as well make the most of the situation, even if it wasn't ideal. There was still much to gain through becoming better acquainted to each alter. "How old are you, Emil?" He asked in a softer tone, like he was talking to a physical child.

"Sixteen," The boy replied, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the floor.

"Lukas tells me that you are sometimes very angry, Emil. You seemed angry when you first switched, but now you seem shy. Why is that?"

"Why do you care anyway?" Emil shot back, finally looking him in the eye, "you're treating Lukas, not me. It's me you're trying to kill!"

"Emil, this isn't killing you. What you need to understand is that you are Lukas."

"… I'm Emil. I have been since forever."

"Just liste-"

"I've had enough of this," Emil snapped, "Where am I staying? I want to go there."

"I can't let you do that, now. The point of this assessment was to find out where would be best for Lukas to stay while he is in England, and since you interrupted it we will now have to wait until I Lukas gets his consciousness back to continue."

"Let me go!" Emil whined, suddenly looking very distressed, "you can't keep me here, let me go!"

"Please calm-"

"No, stop it! What are you going to do, rape me, hit me k-" Just as sudden as his outburst was, the boy dropped unconscious to the floor without warning, the body limp and crumpled like a discarded item of clothing.

Now Matthias understood what was so special about this case, why Lukas Bondevik had been referred to him out of everyone else. This was the most unusual and potentially dangerous case of DID he had encountered as of yet, and he had only spent less than an hour with the man.

Calling in security, he had Lukas' body carried to one of the temporary rooms where he would be watched 24/7 until he woke up. And when he did wake up… so would begin Matthias' challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello peoples, I am back with another chaper - very soon I may add, don't get used to it! I will update regularly so long as writer's block doesn't make itself a nusance, I simply felt the need to update today as a thank you for all the follows, reviews and favourites. Hope you enjoy~**

He was slowly becoming aware of figures standing above him – two – watching him, observing him, like he was laid out and restrained for the purpose of experimentation. What would they do today, cut him open, burn him, violate him in so many ways that he had forgotten what dignity was? He felt like he would be able to go out in public stark naked without breaking out a blush.

As his vision cleared, he made out the faces, of his mother with thin, unwashed hair tied back tightly into a ponytail, showing off the glint of her forehead and her heavily hooded eyes that remained dark like pits of evil. And, of course, that expression, of morbid and unsatisfiable curiosity. And his father, whose face he could barely stand to look at, which an unkempt beard and thin, cruel eyes. Not that it was a surprise to him, who was there. It was always them, those people who had meant to care for him reduced to 'that man' and 'that woman' whose presence marked the beginning of pain and abuse.

This time, that man held a household iron, his mother a wet towel, and he had been stripped half naked in his sleep, his pale chest rising and falling heavily in fear. Oh God, not again, he couldn't deal with it again, the heat and then the excruciating pain that tore through his body, ripped any nerves from him he felt had formerly been untouched, ripped his skin as the burning surface was lifted. The cruel contrast of the cold, rough towel rubbing and rubbing, peeling away what little was left of his sanity.

He screamed. His restrained body twisted and writhed in a hopeless battle to escape the torture. Involuntary tears escaped eyes squeezed shut, uncut nails cut into his palms, the lesser pain somehow soothing.

It went on for what felt like hours.

By the end of it, he could barely breathe. Desperately, he wished his gasps would stop, and his heart with them, allowing him to leave this body and escape to some far away place where pain didn't exist and he barely did.

 _Click._

 _Suddenly, the pain ended. It was not dissimilar to falling asleep, as an overwhelming sense of peace laid over him, letting him think clearly and breathe easily and live and smile and forget. The darkness caressed him, held him like the arms of a mother, like he was merely a babe again and worthy of the love and affecting he had been starved of. How sweet, how blissful this feeling was. How – in the life of him – had he survived for sixteen years without that feeling? It was like honey and milk and woollen blankets all at the same time…_

The pain continued, even if those who had been causing it had stopped. This was the first time he had felt such torment. It was the first he felt of anything in this world, so it was both horrifying and normal at the same time. He was scared, he was terrified, he was furious all at the same time, the emotions festering in his mind and poisoning him with their wrath.

What a painful existence. Why had he discovered the earth in such a manner? Hopelessly, the boy struggled in his tethers, the leather straps biting in to his wrists and ankles, the hard, cold wood of the table pressing into his protruding bones. He didn't cry. Or shout. That wasn't his job, not yet. His job was to safely store the pain, to bear it like a martyr, for beliefs he didn't have.

Victoria mental ward, London

It was Tino who woke up in the straight jacket, his arms suffering pins and needles and his fingers and toes numbly cold after lack of use. The room was hot, yet he shivered, the dried sweat of terror and struggle sending a chill through his spine.

Awkwardly rolling over, he saw the room was padded and white, the harsh overhead lighting making him wonder how on earth the previous personality had fallen asleep. In fact, the man couldn't help but worry at the circumstances; he had kept himself tucked away in Lukas' mind as per the man's request. He had told Tino all about how he was grasping at straws, trying in vain to find a cure to this illness, and even though it pained Tino to hear that he was a hindrance, he understood and wanted only to help Lukas in any way possible.

So he had blocked himself off so completely that he hadn't been conscious to experience the plane ride, the initial appointment and whatever breakdown Lukas had had to end up in a padded cell, in a straight jacket, like some lunatic he wasn't. It would have taken a lot to rouse the Fin from his closed off state; Lukas must have needed him desperately.

Worriedly, Tino bit his lip, wondering what could have happened to shake Lukas or one of the others into becoming a danger to themselves and those around them. He needed answers. And fast.

"Ah, so you're awake now?" A voice, through a speaker located in a corner of the room, asked.

Tino looked expectantly at the door, "yes I am. Sorry, but this is really uncomfortable, I would hate to wonder how long we've been here. Could you let me out?"

There was a pause. "I am guessing that you're Tino?"

"Y-yes? How do you know?"

"Lukas had a session before he switched to Emil, who fainted and woke up screaming. We had to put you here for your own safety. Lukas had time to tell me about you before then."

Tino smiled sadly at the cruel irony of it. They were restraining him for his 'own' safety, yet the doctor meant Lukas and he knew it. Tino was simply an annoyance to be gotten rid of someone who was simply loaning Lukas' body. He ignored the pang of hurt and guilt in his stomach.

"I'll come in now," the doctor said.

It was only a few seconds before the door opened and Tino was faced with a kind, wild-haired doctor standing above him with a smile on his face. "Nice to meet you Tino, I'm Doctor Koler in case you didn't know, though I would prefer for you to call me Matthias."

"It's nice to meet you," Tino smiled, "I would shake your hand, but…" He cast an annoyed glance at the straight jacket.

"Oh yes," Matthias noticed, "well, I'll let you out of that now, and then to the room belonging to Lukas. You should unpack his stuff until lunch time. I'll stay with you for a more personal session, one where I can get to know you."

"Wouldn't you prefer to wait until Lukas is out? No doctor wants to know the alters."

"Well, I guess I'm a first," Matthias laughed, undoing the buckles and sliding the jacket off. Tino stretched his arms out in glee, "by the way, I have never met an alter who seems so self aware that they're an alter."

"We all know it, I think, though it is hard to communicate with the others," Tino pondered, "if I'm honest, I feel guilty for being here, but I know that I have helped Lukas in the past, even if I am unwanted now. But… even if I know I'm not real, it doesn't stop me from feeling real, and wanting to stay. I will go for Lukas, though. It would be unfair any other way."

The doctor's eyes were lit up with curiosity and interest, observing the words carefully as they exited Tino's mouth. The man shifted uncomfortably underneath his gaze until Matthias stood suddenly, holding out a hand for Tino, who took it gratefully and shakily, standing himself.

Lukas' room was small and minimal, though had a more homely feel than the impersonal hospital wards back in Norway. While Tino set out carefully placing Lukas' clothes in the drawers, Matthias sat on the bed, talking to Tino as if he were a friend.

At first, Tino felt uneasy with the continued interaction. Living as an alter of DID, he wasn't the most capable of going out in public. He held a part of Lukas' pain that the man had been incapable of bearing himself, like a dark secret for only him to bear alone. That sort of pain prevented him from seeking the company of other humans; partly because he know the evil of some and partly because the sheer amount of 'normal' people out there made him feel so much more fake.

God, Tino longed to be able to live his own life without hindering that of others. He loved people, but being starved of that contact had made him painfully awkward. However, if Matthias had been counselling him on social interaction and confidence he would have improved greatly. The man made conversation easy, and prompted thought and contribution from Tino like he was an individual. As time when by, Tino found himself liking the man, driving discussion himself, from serious topics to the more light-hearted chatter.

This must be what it was like to be normal, he pondered. He felt such a longing in his stomach, a sadness and somewhere hidden deep down anger at how unfair to be given a consciousness that he was told was not valid. He guessed he must make the most of it while he had it. There was much happiness to be gained from mere hours.

The clothes long put away, Tino sat beside Matthias, laughing and sharing the time with him as an equal would. He liked the doctor, really liked him. It was unexplainable, yet a really nice feeling that made him blush and try to hide it. Matthias appeared to like him to, which sent a thrill through his body.

The mood quickly changed, however, once Matthias steered the topic to Lukas' DID. "So Tino, how long have you existed for? Do you remember when you first appeared to Lukas?"

"I… um…" Tino stalled, "I don't know, really. I have been here a lifetime, it's not like it was just created out of nothing."

"Is that so?" Matthias looked like he wanted to take notes, but luckily he restrained himself.

"Emil was the first. And Berwald was after me. That's all I know."

"I think you know more than that," Matthias chided, and Tino felt all warmth fade from his belly, as if Matthias had challenged him. He restrained it, as he had done in the past, though it was harder than it had ever been now that it was being provoked.

"You don't trust me?" He asked, struggling to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Tino, you have to understand that I am here to help Lukas in any way possible. If you are keeping things from me that only prolongs his suffering – your suffering, actually, since you are part of his personality."

"B-but, I feel… so… so real…" Tino struggled, choking on the words like they had more substance than air. "I…"

As tears welled up, he was quick to stand. "I want for Lukas to live a happy life, and I know that means a life without me, or Emil or Berwald. But at the same time, I am selfish, and now you're here I realise that my time may be short and it makes me angry and scared and so selfish… I'm sorry, okay." He hurriedly left the room, unsure as of where he was going, unsure why he had said such intimate things, unsure – and confused.

He didn't have long to wander. Matthias, with his concerned pout that seemed far to juvenile for a hospital and caring, concerned eyes that burned like hot coals caught up with him quickly, and led the man back to the room, leaving him there to give him the time he so desperately needed alone.

Inwardly, Tino cursed that the little happiness he had experienced had been tainted and that he'd allowed such overwhelming emotions to consume him. He was the happy one, the safe one, who knew how to deal with everything. At least, he thought, Lukas wasn't awake to suffer through it.

Suddenly he felt so alone, misunderstood and trapped. He scrambled for a pencil and paper, writing a note which extended to a letter, to someone who may be able to understand him.

 _Berwald and Emil,_

 _This is Tino, the other of Lukas' alters. You must know by now that he is getting treatment from a man who seems to know very much about how to treat him, and I don't know about you but I am happy that Lukas is finally getting help. Though I am also scared at what happens to us when we are forced out. For a short period of time, it felt like Matthias was helping me as well, but now I realise that everything he says is to cure Lukas, every question he asks is not as a friend would – to discover more about us as individuals – but to find out about how Lukas can be cured from the disease that we are._

 _Why have we not written to each other before? Surely we can understand each other more than anyone else in the world, and right now I desperately need someone else. I want to help you too, especially you Emil, since I see you are having a hard time dealing with this. We all are, but you mostly, and all I want to do is be here for you._

 _Tino_

He debated whether he should put kisses on the end, but decided against it. It was strange how much like strangers they felt to him even after sharing a body and in part a mind for years.

Straightening the creases from the note, he placed it under the pillow, hoping beyond hope that it was not Lucas who found it. He didn't want the man to feel like he was trying to stop him from getting proper treatment, driven by his own selfish desires for life. Because he wasn't. He didn't plan to hinder any such treatment; he simply longed for someone to be with him during the time that he disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

Matthias stared absentmindedly at the documents in front of him. The picture of Lukas stared back, face devoid of any external emotion, a cold, stone mask that hid what was truly going on inside that mind. Despite how carefully the man maintained such an expression, his eyes were his weakness, deep and dark, pits of pain and thought and suffering, skin pale in a way that on any other person would suggest illness but on Lukas seemed natural, only contributed to his supernatural vibe.

He really, really wanted to help Lukas. And, as a phycologist, he could normally read his own emotions very well, but in this case he didn't have a clue what he felt and why. He felt at a loose end, like his years of extensive and dedicated learning had missed a whole segment of human feeling and now he was suffering for it.

Of course, the Dane cared about all his patients, but the rich were only so friendly and while a real gem may pop up sometimes – someone genuinely kind and thankful for his treatment – most of the time it was those who abused their high class power, coming to him so snobbishly with ailments curable by a complete novice. It frustrated him that his talent and hard work was taken so for-granted, so when a mental health charity approached him offering for him to take part in a program in which a highly troubled individual with a low success rate could come to him free of charge he was quick to agree.

He would treat Lukas for free, using all of his knowledge to bring the man peace. That is what he would say for any other patient, but it took a whole new, whole hearted meaning when he thought about Lukas.

And then there was Lukas' alters. Having not met the mysterious Berwald, he couldn't make a full evaluation, but compared to other sufferers of DID he had treated these alters had more body to them (oh such an ironic saying) and if he didn't know better he would be tempted to call them individuals. Emil, the child who was so angry and so scared at the same time, developed at the tender age of sixteen and froze into those years. Tino, who seemed so kind and friendly and wishing only for the best for Lukas, yet scared at the same time to loose whatever consciousness he had in this world.

They had so many opinions on their position that he felt like he was murdering them.

However, a doctor couldn't let himself get caught up in such pondering; if his patient was ill he would treat him.

Rummaging through the papers in front of him, he froze when he came to the 'Patient History' file. It was… suspiciously devoid of writing, only a short paragraph at the top reading 'patient had expressed a lack of memory from between the ages fifteen and twenty, though he states that he knows that something bad happened during these times. From before then, we can confirm that he has been adopted several times, though he refuses to reveal more.'

Matthias couldn't stop staring at it. He remained froze in the same positions, the paper shaking in his hand. Five whole years of Lukas' memory… lost? What had the man done to deserve that; what had happened to his that was so bad that he had relied on alters for such a vast majority of the time? Matthias had experiences several patients similar to this, he should be used to it. So why did his gut wrench, his hands shake, and why did and involuntary tear taint the papers below him.

He knew that there must be more to it than this. He felt it with an inexplicable certainty.

After a healthy sleep and a pleasant morning, Matthias found himself back at the ward half an hour earlier than the time the patients were woken up. All the time he had been at home he had been balancing mental rest and racing thought, his brain trying desperately to work out everything about Lukas and failing horribly.

He was about to start catching up on paperwork when he was interrupted by one of the nurses, a meek young woman who looked like a child yet had the heart of an adult, and had enough compassion to calm any patient. She was a valuable member of the team, someone who was free of the implications of a physiologist and was trusted by all but the most paranoid. A great deal of this was due to her pure intent and mental sureness that she carried with her like a badge of peace; as soon as you spoke to her you could tell that she was a good person.

It wasn't unpleasant to lay eyes on her sweet face first thing in the morning, but Matthias instantly knew something was wrong. She worried her lip and here eyes were wide and anxious, and hadn't her shift ended at 1am? She should be home by now.

Something must have happened.

Nevertheless, the doctor greeted her with a smile, "good morning, Lili, I swear your shift must have ended hours ago?"

Her reply was fatigued, "it did, but… one of the patients needed me." This wasn't a surprise; what else would she have stayed for? "It was the new one, Lukas. He woke around eleven seeming quite distressed. He wasn't… visibly destructive, so I didn't think it necessary to call for help, but I went to speak with him. It is my job after all." She turned her doe-like eyes to his, the honesty saturating her stare, "I have never seen such a mix of emotions in a patient in the few years I have been working as a nurse. Nor such sadness. We spoke for a while, but he wasn't keen in opening up. Somehow I ended up staying the night."

Pondering her words, Matthias remembered that the staff had only had a very brief overview of Lukas' position as a new patient; they were only truly informed once he himself had made a full evaluation.

"Did he admit anything that may show he is a danger to himself? Or other patients?"

"No! No, not at all!" Lili reassured him, and Matthias breathed out a sigh he hadn't realised he'd been holding, "he is very sad, but he seems to accept it. I wish I could have done more."

"You did enough, Lili, thank you for letting me know. I'll speak to him about it in his counselling session after breakfast."

The woman shot him a knowing look, "Don't forget your other patients, doctor, I know how much you want to work out what is going on in his head, but it may take some time."

"Indeed."

After that, the morning went quickly and Matthias found himself both looking forward to and dreading his session with Lukas. After yesterday, it had the potential for disaster and the man evidently wasn't as secure as he was willing to let on. However, much the optimist Matthias was, he dared to let himself hope that he would be able to get somewhere with the man. This was the worst part about his job, he thought, was how damn long it took, and how much effort it took to encourage the closed books such as Lukas to open up to him, so that he could help them recover. It was a long, tiring and frustrating process, but completely worth it in the end.

"Good morning Lukas," Matthias greeted as his patient entered, "please take a seat."

"It's afternoon," Lukas shot back, and sat on the edge of the chair like he was ready to run away. So, Matthias noticed, Lukas didn't trust him in the least. Figured.

"How have you been?" Matthias asked, "I heard you had some trouble last night. Would you like to speak about it?"

"T-that wasn't me," Lukas replied, reddening and looking away, "I don't want to talk about it."

So he was hiding something. Matthias wondered what it was, but didn't push. He reminded himself to go easy on the man.

It was a grey day outside, but the warm orange lighting of his office counteracted the weather. Fat raindrops patted against the window, and some of the patients found it nerve-wracking. It seemed to relax Lukas, Matthias noted, pleased that they had at least one similarity. He loved the rain, the wet, cold weather outside contrasting against the safety of indoors. His room felt like a sanctuary. It was even better in his old apartment in Copenhagen, but London satisfied him almost as well.

He allowed the man a few minutes of peace, hoping that the more relaxed he was the easier it would be to get him to open up to him, then he cleared his throat and Lukas turned his gaze from the window to his doctor, frowning like he was displeased with the circumstances.

"Lukas," Matthias began, deciding to bring up something that had been on his mind since meeting Lukas, "there are so many people who would have given an arm and a leg to be in your position right now. Do you realised how privileged you are right now?"

"Yes, I am privileged," Lukas agreed. Why was his voice so monotone? Why did he hide what he was feeling so well that to Matthias' trained eye he truly didn't seem to care.

"I am pleased you are my patient," Matthias continued. "You are interesting, a deep thinker, I can tell, even if you don't admit it, that you want this treatment to work. I like you. I wonder if you like yourself enough to open up to me, so that I can help you?"

"I don't know what you want me to open up about!" Lukas retaliated, "you studied DID, didn't you, you should know that my memories aren't my own, that I don't know what happened in my childhood! That is the job of my alters!" He took a deep breath, reeling himself in from his outburst, "the person I am is split into too many parts, so that I am simply the bone picked bare. I don't get angry, I don't get sad, I don't get happy… I simply exist. I don't know what or who I am because my personality is stolen by my alters."

Concerned, Matthias reached out a hand, placing it on Lukas' arm reassuringly. "I don't think you realise how much of that was not true. You have become so fixated on what you think is true, that you have hidden the actual truth from even yourself. I mean, you said you don't get angry, but you seemed angry then. You raised your voice, you glared at me like you wanted me to shrivel up and die," he laughed at that. It was so true! And he ignored the tug at Lukas' lips that the man fought to restrain.

"You are more you that you realise, and that was too many yous, not too little! See, even if that is what you think, it isn't true. If you trust me, I can guide you in a direction that will help you find yourself, and as that happens you won't need your alters. I can help you reduce them, and I can help you suppress them. Eventually, it will be like they didn't exist. Today I'll explain the program to you, so that you know what is in store for the next few weeks, and I hope that you will allow me to chat to you like a normal person. Relax, Lukas. Want some tea?"

"Coffee," Lukas perked up. He hadn't said much during Matthias' speak, but he looked far more comfortable than he had in the start, almost content, though kind of sad still.

Matthias decided to humour him, and they spent the whole hour talking, Lukas untriggered, Matthias at ease, and this was why Matthias loved his work, as slowly but surely he peeled down years of protective armour in a person to revel who they truly were, and to ease them of their burden.

It was a slow start, but a start nonetheless.

Emil woke with a start, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His wide eyes searched the room for something – anything – to indicate that he wasn't in /that/ place, but it was all too dark, all to unfamiliar, and the dream was all to real.

He screamed. Drawing in a deep breath, he shouted for help, to be let go, for someone, anyone to come and stop this smothering fear. He couldn't breathe, the obscurity of the room pressing on his chest, the covers tangled in flailing limbs. The boy halted, for a second, panting in exhaustion, but called out again just as quickly as he had stooped, the first thing in his head, the last whispered name on the lips of the body he was inhabiting; the one person who had proven to be safe. "Matthias, stop this, help me!" How confused and mad his words were.

A nurse came hurrying into the room, amber eyes shining with concern in the darkness. The lights were switched on, several other of the staff hurrying into his room. The first man helped him sit up. The boy's cries had ceased, but his crying hadn't, fat tears ran without halt down his cheeks, and he still whimpered for Matthias. Not that it even registered who Matthias was, but he knew that if he needed safety that was the word he needed to say to get it. According to Lukas, anyway.

"Ssh, it is okay," the nurse comforted, his voice soft and soothing.

"I want Matthias," Emil whimpered. _I want safety_.

"We are calling Matthias now, he will be here for you very soon, try to breath now, bambino, do you want some water?"

Giving a watery nod, Emil was handed a plastic glass, and he sipped the cold water down, hiccuping through tears. He couldn't forget the fear that gripped his body, waking up in a place so different. It was like he was back _there_.

"Lukas!" Matthias burst through the door, breathing heavily and, seeing the man's tears, was quick to come over to the bed, "hey what's wrong? I am here."

Blatantly ignoring being called the wrong name, Emil clung to Matthias like he clung to reality, burying his head into that warm chest with such a strong, reliable heartbeat and the faint smell of cinnamon. Like Tino, it occurred to Emil, if Tino could _have_ his own scent (which he couldn't).

The nurses had cleared out, trusting the patient with Matthias, and Emil melted into the man's embrace for so long he lost track of time. Becoming sleepy, he relaxed, and Matthias gently lay his down on the pillows, propped up ever so slightly as to stay connected to reality.

"So, do you want to speak about what is wrong?" Matthias asked finally, allowing the boy to clutch at his hand like a lifeline.

Emil didn't, but he felt like he had no choice and oh how he wished he could bury his head and his thoughts back into that safe, stable chest. Words didn't come easily to him. The more he said, the more confused and terrifying the fuzzy darkness became, chaotic and messy and…

"I'm scared," he gasped, eyes wide and shining in the low light of the room as if he had come to a surprising new revelations when in reality he found himself in a constant state of terror. It was what he had always wanted to say, but never had the chance. No one would help him. No one would come.

The doctor squeezed his tight grip, reaching out a hand and running it through the boys hair, down his cheek and stopping at his jaw, pushing it so that he was staring into the honest blue eyes of Matthias Køler. "What is there to be scared of, Emil? You are safe here. No one will hurt you. Everything is alright."

"It is?" Emil asked, his voice so, so high and vulnerable.

"I promise," Matthias reassured, then paused as if hesitant of his next words, "do you trust me?"

"No," Emil said, and watched the man deflate slightly adding on, "but never in my existence have I trusted anyone. Lukas trusts you though, so maybe I do?" Emil didn't know what trust felt like, but he knew that this was an unlikely situation for his breathing to be quite as calm, devoid of the fear of pain and beatings and worse. Had he ever trusted another man or woman? No. It wasn't his purpose.

"If Lukas trusts me, and you trust Lukas, can you tell me what scares you?" Matthias prompted.

Glancing round the room warily, Emil answered, "I'm scared of the dark, because of what it hides. I'm scared of the light because of what it shows. I'm scared, because when the bed is in the middle of the room it is so much like – then – that time when _they_ would come and… And…"

"Look at me," Matthias reminded the boy of his reassuring presence, bringing him back to reality.

"They did things to me, Matthias, and Lukas made me feel it all," Emil choked.

"You don't have to speak about it now, if you don't want to," Matthias said kindly. "Try to go to sleep. Try to think of happy things."

"I have never known what happy feels like," Emil said in a monotone as Matthias lay the pillows down and he sank into then, stifling a yawn.

"Maybe you have never had anything to feel happy about. Maybe you didn't know to feel happy about something."

"What makes you happy, Matthias?"

"Me? Lots of things make me happy!" The man spoke in hushed tones, lethargically listing little nothings that somehow brought him joy, and while Emil pondered the absurdity of his situation, it was somehow relaxing, the images Matthias' descriptions brought to his mind warm and comforting. "… Opening a paper bag of old fashioned sweets, and then twirling the wrappers, walking down old cobbled streets hand in hand with someone you love…"

Yes, that sounded pleasant, Emil pondered, half asleep. It would have just finished raining and the droplets of rain would be falling from the buildings, lazily plopping to the ground. The had he held would be warm and grip his back with just as much enthusiasm. He would breathe the air in his own pair of lungs, never worrying that he would switch in the midst of his enjoyment. Oh it was a bittersweet dream, but one that caught his mind. He could almost taste the lemon drop in his mouth as he rolled the sweet over his tongue.

Who would he be with? Someone who loved him? But who was he to love; was he part of Lukas or was he his own? Would someone be stupid enough to love a nonexistent being who still had the thoughts, feelings and dreams of a fully functional individual? No, probably not, but his mind conjured up warm, honey brown eyes that crinkled as they smiled and dimples on the side of the other's mouth. He was probably delusional, but he could still smell the spice from his partner, taste the sugar of the lemon as he committed to the most peaceful slumber the boy had ever known.

That morning, as Lili took over the shift from another nurse, she did the usual rounds, gently pushing to each door the the patient's rooms, watching them sleep peacefully, or in some cases in turmoil, but she tried to ignore the unrest. Coming to the last door, the door of the new patient, she gently opened the door, popping her head around it.

The sight made her smile. The patient, Lukas, was curled on his side like a child, chest rising and falling in peace. Matthias, the silly, hardworking, dedicated doctor who valued his patient's wellbeing over his necessarily human functions, was bent half way over the bed, head resting beside the other man's on the pillow, hand still comfortingly engulfing the others.

"How unprofessional," Lili muttered with a bemused smile on her face, "falling asleep with a patient." She didn't disturb them however. It would have been a shame to break the rare peace from the patient's life, and the rare contempt from the doctors.

 **Hello, I've been gone a while, haven't I? Sorry it took so long to update, the majority of this chapte has been siting around waiting to be edited and completed yet I have been studying the characters further. I hope this is okay, do leave a review and let me know, becasue my confidence in my writing is literally 1%. Help me complete this story!**

 **Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed ^-^**


	4. Chapter 4

Lukas woke to the tickle of breath on his cheek, and a stray lock of hair in his eyes. Blinking frustratedly, he reached up a hand, brushing the hair away, only to find that it was connected to a head that wasn't his.

The Danish doctor was snoring gently, and in any other case it would surely have been annoying, but the dull, monotonous sound was relaxing and put him at ease, perhaps because it was Matthias in particular, and Matthias was the one he could trust. Wondering idly why the man was here, asleep in such an uncomfortable position beside him, he stiffly raised himself on his forearms, wincing at the ache in his back.

He felt remarkably well rested. It wasn't often he could wake without the desperate craving for coffee, but then again it wasn't all too often that he woke as himself either. Easing out from the doctor's arm, that was draped carelessly on the quilt over him, he stretched and opened the curtains, surprised that it was daylight already. He turned and watched the sleeping man, pondering what was best to do in his circumstances, before walking over to the lazy form, leaning down and flicking him gently in the forehead.

The Dane mumbles slightly, then sighed and returned to his steady snoring. "So lazy," Lukas sighed, not really meaning it. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder shaking him more intently, "Wake up!"

"Lukas..?" Matthias mumbled, Blue eyes watery, "what…"

"Don't ask me, I wonder who you were comforting at such a time at night," Lukas said.

"Oh, Emil. Is he okay?"

"I think so. I can't always tell, but I don't remember him sleeping so well before."

"It is you who slept well, Lukas," Matthias reminded him, "remember you're one and the same."

"Yes, I know." Distractedly, Lukas pulled the old, oversized t-shirt over his head in preference of one more presentable. Matthias seemed interested in the patterns made on his back by muscle and bone, skin pulled unnaturally tightly over whatever flesh there was. Lukas was thin. He made a mental note to up the man's calorie intake; he wasn't going to spend so much time on his mental state only for the man to suffer physically.

"So what exactly made you come to Emil at such a time of night, Matthias? Surely you have other things to be doing, and isn't it the duty of the nurses to care for patients after night hours?" Lukas asked on a whim.

"Technically… Yes. At least by the way most work. But I am not most," Matthias grinned, "and I like to do things by my own rules."

Lukas ignored the man's smug satisfaction, preferring to button up his jacket instead. It took him a short time to dress in comfortable silence, Matthias flipping idly through the little notebook he carried with him at all times, standing and stretching longly once finished. He left Lukas at breakfast to do God knows what – at least that was what Lukas though until he realised that the man had a few other patients on his hands that required equal attention, a fact that made him feel surprisingly uneasy.

When he next saw the doctor, for his afternoon session, he was in a foul mood from the uneventful day spent flicking through the book of fairytales he had so determinedly took with him and forcing down the food – arguably good food, but too much none the less. He was pondering inviting one of his alters to unburden him of the tedious monotony of the day when the gentle redhead nurse knocked quietly on the door of the day room and walked him to the 'therapy room'.

"Hello, Lukas," Matthias said when he entered, sounding far more subdued than normal, "please take a seat."

Deciding to obey, Lukas did so, all the while hiding a worried expression from the man. In the several hours of his absence, Matthias seemed to have grown years older, a sallowness to his cheeks and a depth to his eyes that hadn't been there before. Silence took the place of his usual light-hearted chatter and he seemed almost… Distracted?

Lukas had barely known the man a week, yet he was sure that such a selfless bastard as he would usually give his all to every patient.

Once nothing had happened for far too long, Lukas finally asked, while trying in vain to sound his usual disinterested self, "is this the session? Silence therapy?"

Matthias tried not to tense up at the other's sarcasm. "Give me time…"

"What's wrong?" He tried again, changing tact.

"Nothing's wrong, Lukas!" Matthias burst out suddenly, startling the man, who tried to maintain his cool composure. He really didn't do well with shouting, but living with the problem for so long had allowed him to gain a control over his exterior reaction.

Remaining silent, Lukas drew in a shaky breath, wondering what had happened to the calming, cheerful therapist who had been there just a few hours ago. He stood silently, walking to the door, and it was only when he cleared his throat that Matthias looked up. "I'm going," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, Lu-" but the man was gone, down the hallway and the doors shutting finally behind him.

Emil came to consciousness to the fast, gasping breath of the remnants of an anxiety attack. Looking around himself, he found himself in an unknown part of the ward. The corridors all looked the same except they were the mirror image of his own, and the signs didn't match up to the boy's memory. Struggling to his feet, he walked to one of the large windows overlooking the back of the hospital onto the rolling English hills, a muddy green from the rainy climate. It wasn't raining now, but it might of well have been, considering he was in such a jittery mood the continuous pattering would have offered a welcome monotony to his skipping heartbeat.

He wondered what had happened, but was quick to dismiss any scary pondering. He wasn't physically harmed; only dealing with the long ago shattered remanence of Lukas' sanity.

"Hey, you there, who are you?" The words sounded accusing, and the tone not much better. Expecting to see a nurse, Emil was surprised to find himself face to face with a boy around his age, a little taller, with darker skin and upturned eyes, the colour a warm honey brown.

"I'm Emil," he replied simply, caring not for sparing Lukas the complications later of a possible explanation if he were to meet the boy as himself.

"Okay, _Emil,_ so _why_ are you here?" The stranger asked, frustrated with the plain answer.

"What? In this hospital or in the totally wrong ward? Because the first seems a little personal," he pouted.

"Well I did mean this ward, but being in the hospital isn't so taboo, not when it is Matthias Køler's one and you are under his therapy. Everyone here is loaded, I swear they are showcasing their mental illness like a trophy or something."

"Really?" Emil scrunched his face, "that's disgusting. I'm poor, and from Iceland. I'm the token charity case."

"I'm the token Asian case," the boy grinned dryly, "that and my brother gets a discount for me being here considering he pays full."

"That's cool," Emil said shyly. He wasn't used to speaking to people his age – he wasn't used to speaking to people at all – but that didn't mean that it wasn't strangely nice. It was only then that he realised that when thrown in a one on one social situation with someone he actually cared about what they thought about him, he had no idea how to behave.

The strange eyed him curiously, before grabbing his hand without warning, "I'm Xiao, but my brother makes me go by Leon in England. Y'know, since I'm Chinese."

"So… I can call you Xiao?" Emil asked, confused.

"Well yeah, if you like. I though white people had a problem with that or something."

"Why?" Emil protested.

"If I knew that it would make it easier to come here to England. But hey, call me what you like, I guess."

The two boys shuffled awkwardly, Xiao glancing anxiously over his shoulder every now and then, slender fingers tapping on his wrist, the windowsill, the wall – anything that was in touching distance.

"Why are you here, by the way?" Xiao asked, "in this ward, I mean."

"Dunno…" Emil trailed of ambiguously. Xiao didn't prompt for any further explanation, seeming happy to let it pass.

"Oh, why don't I take you do my room? We can, like, hang out or whatever, and we won't be bothered by the nurses… Or something." Xiao seemed shy, but relaxed as Emil agreed, taking the boy's hand and pulling him down another corridor and into one of the rooms. It was personalised, painted a cream colour and a bed covered in vibrant red fabrics. It was cozy, and Emil smiled at the scent of some sort of spice. He was about to take a seat on the bed when the door opened again and Matthias entered.

"Emil!" The doctor said sternly, "What are you doing here? Can you explain Xiao?"

Both boys were at a loss, looking at each other in brief panic. Sighing, Matthias stepped forward. "Come on Emil, you still haven't finished your session. And Leon," he turned to Xiao, "I'm going to send a nurse in here to re run over the rules of staying here. You get a lot of allowances; don't break our trust and make us take your privilege away."

"Whatever," Xiao mumbled, eyes set firmly on the floor fingers tapping on the blankets he sat on, feet tapping a broken rhythm on the floor. He looked up hesitantly at Emil as the smaller boy was led gently away by the wrist, "see you round, Emil."

"Sure," Emil smiled cutely, feeling strangely warm as he was walked back to the session room.

 **Hello! I am so sorry it has been a while, I have had the worst writers block. This chapter is also really short, so I apologise, I would rather give you something of decent quality than a load of junk. Anyhow, I am trying my best to draw the plot to where I want it to be and I hope that this is okay and not too boring. I am so sorry if it is T^T**

 **Please review. It makes up for my lack of confidence and any improvements/suggestions are dearly welcomed.**


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